


Together

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Series: The Pacemakers [28]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Cleaning, Depression, Foreshadowing, Guilt, Help, Hiding Medical Issues, Injury Recovery, Late Night Conversations, Major Character Injury, Multi, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:46:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6645772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brawn needs a little help treating his injuries and isn't in the mood to accept it. Huffer has decided that's too bad for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> Pace - A company or herd of mules; in my headcanon, a family of Minibots; also a traditional expectation and an honor among Minibots who form one.
> 
> One - the first Minibot to agree to join the proposer's pace.

“Why are you here instead of with Ratchet?”

That wasn’t an easy question to answer, but the mech asking it clearly expected one and he expected it now.

 _Gotta handle this gracefully…_ “Cos I don’t _need_ to be with Ratchet,” Brawn replied stoically. He kept his voice low, wiping his mouth clean of energon and pointedly not meeting the gaze of the mech behind him, who he could see in the washroom mirror. Even if he didn’t look at him, he could feel the strength of Huffer’s glower, burning into his back.

“Going after the Seekers on your own was stupid, Brawn! You could’ve been killed!” Brawn scoffed and Huffer intruded into his EM field, insisting, “Are you—are you _seeing_ yourself? It’s bad and you keep doing it. Don’t think I don’t notice.”

“I know, I know,” Brawn grumbled. “You’re always hovering.”

Armor flaring, Huffer vented sharply and glanced away toward the dark outer room, where their pace-mates were recharging. Brawn knew he’d just insulted him and he regretted it—mostly because of what he _wouldn’t_ say. If Huffer didn’t hover, Brawn probably wouldn’t even go through the process of cleaning himself up.

Shaking the idea away, Brawn took up a shammy and wet it, pressing it against the dent underneath one of his optics with a slight hiss. The quiet noise brought Huffer’s attention back to him. He fidgeted, hands twitching testily at his sides, and then came closer to assist, snatching the shammy away with one hand and putting the other on his shoulder to turn him. Before he could swallow it, a yelp burst out of the larger mech, startling the smaller and causing him to jump back.

Core temperature spiking in embarrassment, Brawn strained his audials to see if any of the others had been woken by the cry of pain, but by some miracle they stayed undisturbed. Huffer, however, was staring at him in alarm, optics flicking between his face and his shoulder. Brawn watched as realization finally dawned and Huffer’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“I guess you should sit,” he suggested softly, his vocals pained enough that an outsider might have thought he had suffered the injuries. Brawn jerked a nod, feeling the struts down his back clamp up and his neck ache. He didn’t mention either as he settled onto the drain and Huffer came around to stand at his side, handing the shammy back to him. Brawn twisted it in his lap, reluctant to use it, but if it spared him concerned demands for an explanation from his pace, he might as well.

“Frag it,” he mumbled, biting down on the synthetic cloth and humming sullenly at the tang of energon he tasted on it. Huffer was surprisingly gentle as he took hold of his arm, ex-vented, and through his hold on the limb they could both sense the nanoklik of mutual regret before he wrenched Brawn’s shoulder back into place. Even with the shammy muffling it, the wounded mech’s holler echoed in the small washroom and Huffer sank down onto the edge of the wash-racks, staying quiet as Brawn tried to quiet himself.

The pace-leader hated looking like this, so he spat the shammy onto the floor and lifted the opposite hand to the reset shoulder, gingerly patting it. The rotator cup was burning; it would be a nasty ache tomorrow, but at least it was moveable. He considered rolling it to be sure, but decided against it.

“Thanks,” he ground out.

“Let’s hope I did it right,” Huffer sighed. “If not, you probably won’t be able to hold an energon cube, much less a blaster.”

Peeking at his One, Brawn felt his spark sink at how dejected he looked—optics downcast, shoulders drooping, EM field lax. Fidgeting, he muttered grudgingly, “Well, maybe I’ll get Ratchet to check. Maybe.”

To his relief, Huffer perked up a little, though he still didn’t smile. Brawn didn’t expect him to. In the while that followed, they communicated their frustration with and to each other—not through words, simply through silence. It was kind of ironic, Brawn thought to himself, that he and Huffer could yell at each other all they wanted and the message rarely ever got through, but when they were noiseless they understood each other completely.

_Why are you doing this alone?_

_I have to. Mostly because I’m worried._

_I am too, about you. You have us; we don’t want you to die._

_You think I’m going to die, little One? Not right now._

_You’re right. You could’ve died vorns ago, when you first started this._

_But I haven’t, so what’s the harm?_

_It’s my job to help!_

_Not now. Not with this._

_You’re such an idiot, Brawn._

_I know, Huffer. You are too._

Even that conversation fizzled out eventually. Lifting one knee and resting his chin on it, Brawn let his mind wander to other things, such as turning in for the night. Maybe he ought to get some rest while the night lasted. Still he didn’t move and neither did the mech beside him. Upon peeking at him again, Brawn met Huffer’s optics.

“If we go, we’re gonna do it _together_ or not do it all,” Huffer stated. “Personally I wouldn’t mind the latter but if we have to do something we don’t want to do…Together. All of us.”

Brawn knew he wasn’t talking about recharge.


End file.
